Guts Lyrics - John Cale

The bugger in the short sleeves fucked my wife 

Did it quick and split 

Back home, fresh as a daisy to Maisy, oh Maisy 

And the twelve-bore it stood in the corner 

Quite operatic in its self disgust 

It blew him all over the living room floor 

Like parrot shit, parrot spit, parrot shit was shot 

Now suppose it was someone familiar 

Someone we all would know 

Embarrasing denouement, ne c'est pas? 

Familiar hyperbole 

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And there would go the secret plot 

The piss had missed the hole in the pot 

Like that ancient teenage dream 

From soul to poison soul to poison soul 

Guts, guts, got no guts 

And stitches don't help at all 

Guts, guts, got no guts 

Holes in the body, holes in the legs 

Holes in the forehead, holes in the head 

Holes in the body, holes in the legs 

There should never be holes at all 

There should never be holes at all 

Photos 

So: kill all you want or more 

Make sure, do it right 

Dead is dead, and door nails forget 

And then you'll notice 

How the waster and the wasted 

Get to look like one another 

In the end, in the end 

In the end, in the end 

In the end, in the end 

In the end, in the end